


Totally Unsuited.

by Bunnywest



Series: Suit 'Verse [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Domestic Violence, Gerard is a terrible father, M/M, Prequel, Warning: Gerard Argent, Werewolf Chris Argent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 01:25:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14125119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunnywest/pseuds/Bunnywest
Summary: Peter and Chris meet at a bar. Chris wants someone experienced. Peter wants a night of fun.They both get a lot more than they were after.The love story of Peter and Chris. Companion piece to So Well Suited.





	Totally Unsuited.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SophiSinclair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophiSinclair/gifts).



> A birthday gift for the lovely SophiSinclair. Here you go darling, Chris and Peter's backstory.  
> I hope you enjoy it!

 

By the time Chris Argent is 26, he feels the weight of his father’s disappointment every single day. At least once a week, Gerard looks at him with a scowl and says “Dammit, son. There must be someone. Time’s passing, Chris, and the family needs new blood.”

And Chris will refrain from telling his father that even if he found someone he likes, he doubts that their union would produce any heirs. He knows he’s attracted to men, but he’s not telling Gerard. Hell, he’s only just come to terms with it himself, and he doesn’t have a death wish. Sometimes though, if he’s feeling brave, he’ll ask “What about Kate? She’s single.”

To which his father will reply “Katie’s too talented for me to have out of the field for nine months. She’s a natural.”

And Kate will hear, and shoot him a smug look. Gerard’s not wrong. Kate is a natural born killer. She truly believes that the creatures they hunt need to be exterminated like vermin, and takes a savage joy in it a way Chris never has. She once seduced a fifteen year old boy, and used him to get to his whole family, burning the pack house to the ground with everyone inside it, claiming it was only a matter of time before they went bad. Gerard had been so proud of his girl.

Chris, on the other hand, has never enjoyed what they do, never really been convinced that it’s right. Something in him mourns when they put down a feral werewolf.

He’ll watch the body fall, and think _what a waste._ Even though he’s spent his whole life being told that they’re abominations, there’s part of him that thinks they’re magnificent.

Of course, he never voices that opinion. Back when he was a teen and still learning, he’d once challenged Gerard, asking, “But they can’t all be bad, surely? There must be some good ones?”

Gerard had punched him in the mouth, then told him he never wanted to hear such blasphemy from him again. He’d sneered that he was weak minded for even thinking such a thing, and whipped him bloody with his belt to drive the point home. Chris had barely dragged himself to his feet, shaking and crying, when his father returned, holding a rattan cane and swishing it dangerously.

“Are you going to question what I tell you again, boy?” he’d demanded.

And Chris, fourteen, terrified, and skinny as a rail, had choked out “No, sir!”

And he never did. Not aloud, anyway.

He went on hunts, and trained, and learned to defend himself. And if he didn’t have the flair that Kate did for creatively killing his prey, well that was just one more thing for his father to hold against him.

* * *

 

Peter Hale was 14 when he came out to his family.

To say his parents took it badly was an understatement. They told him that he was too young to know such a thing, that it was just a phase, that he hadn’t met the right girl, that they’d set him up with someone nice.

“I don’t want a nice girl,” he told them stubbornly. “I want a man. Preferably an older one. Definitely a handsome one.” Even at fourteen, Peter knew what he wanted, and he generally got it.

His father didn’t speak to him for a month. His mother sighed every time she looked at him, and Peter started coming home from school to find various teenage girls from other packs who had ”Just popped in for a visit, Peter, won’t you come and be sociable?”

And every time, he’d smile politely, extend a hand, and say “Hi, I’m Peter. Charmed to meet you. Tell me, do you have a brother I could date?” The girl in question would either huff a little in frustration at having her time wasted, or laugh delightedly because she didn’t want to be there either.

His mother gave up after one of the girls _did_ have a brother, and Peter _did_ go on a date, and then another, and another. The romance only lasted a month, but it was long enough for his family to realise that Peter was serious.

After that, his family just….never mentioned it again. If Peter ever mentioned his boyfriends (and there were many, over the years) he’d be met with a stony glare and the subject would be pointedly changed. It hurt, but Peter grew accustomed to being The Son We Don’t Talk About.

By the time he was twenty four though, he was restless. Dating and one night stands were all very well, and heaven knew he loved nothing better than having a well-muscled body pinned beneath him, but Peter wanted more.

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

The first time they meet, it’s at one of those bars that operate just on the edge of town. It isn’t known for its good food or great atmosphere. People go there for one reason only – to pick up. Peter hasn’t been there in months, and the full moon is close, making his skin crawl and his body thrum.

Chris has never been there at all, but he’s just turned twenty-six, he’s still a virgin, and he wants……he doesn’t know what, exactly, but he figures this is as good a place to start looking as any. He walks in, half expecting it to be full of leather wearing older men and simpering boys in harnesses, but it’s nothing like that. It’s a bar just like any other, except that there are a hell of a lot more men. He orders a beer, taking the time to look around while he waits for his drink.

There’s a man two seats down from him with gorgeous eyes, a sinful smirk, and a neck that makes Chris want to leave bite marks all down it. He realises he’s staring when the man raises a brow, and says “Your first time, sweetheart?”

Chris takes in the deep v neck and tight jeans, the muscled body, and the smirk, and thinks _Yes.This_.

He smiles widely then, showing off white, even teeth, and says “Uh huh. Be gentle with me?”

The man extends a hand, and says “Peter.”

“Chris,” he offers in return.

Peter shakes his head, saying “Oh no, I don’t think so. You’re much too buttoned up for something so casual. You’re definitely a Christopher.”

Chris laughs at that, throwing his head back and exposing his throat. Peter’s eyes linger there fleetingly, but then he laughs as well, soft and teasing.

“So, Christopher. Buy me a drink?” Peter asks expectantly. Something about his expression tells Chris that this man could be the best kind of bad decision, and Chris is so damned sick of wondering what it would be like.

“Maybe. What’s in it for me?” he asks.

Peter moves over, leans in close, and whispers in his ear, “ _Everything_.”

Chris buys him a drink.

* * *

 

 

Peter takes him upstairs to one of the rooms. He undresses Chris slowly, casting admiring glances at the muscled frame in front of him. Chris has a sudden attack of nerves, and grits out, “I wasn’t kidding. I’ve really never done this.”

Peter arches a brow and says “Looking like that? Seems like a waste.”

Chris grimaces. “Conservative family,” he explains.

A look of sympathy crosses Peter’s face and he says “I understand. Mine aren’t exactly thrilled, either. They prefer to pretend I don’t exist, actually.”

He runs his hands over Chris’ body as he says “Don’t worry, darling. You’re in good hands.” He kisses Chris then, soft and slow, and Chris finds himself fisting his hands in Peter’s hair, holding him there as he chases more. Peter pulls away with a soft laugh, and says “Patience, sweetheart. We have all night. I’ll make this so good for you, I promise.”

And he does. He’s gentle, and careful, and whispers soft words of praise as he shows Chris what his body can do, how good it can be. And later, when Chris grins lazily and suggests “We should do that again. But this time, you should make me feel it,” Peter does that, too.

Chris leaves in the small hours of the morning with hand shaped bruises on his hips, a definite limp, and a phone number in his pocket. As he leaves, Peter drawls from where he’s still lazing in bed “Next time, Christopher, you can buy me dinner first.”

The next time is a week later. Chris buys dinner, and he discovers that he enjoys Peter’s company immensely. Peter’s clever and sarcastic and hilarious. He’s also something of an asshole, teasing Chris about what he plans to do to him later in low tones in the middle of the restaurant, while Chris blushes furiously.

Peter’s not at all what Chris thought his type would be, yet he feels himself drawn to him. They go to a nearby motel, and Peter does everything he said he would, fucking Chris twice and making him come so hard he actually blacks out for a minute there.

* * *

 

 

They don’t date, not really. It’s casual, at best. They don’t even exchange last names. Chris will get a text, maybe three times a month, saying **“Free tonight?”** and he’ll send back _“Hell yes.”_

And then he’ll do his damnedest to clear his schedule, and he and Peter will meet at the bar or a motel, and spend the night together.  And sometime during the night, Chris will slip away, happy and sated and completely aware that he’s sleeping with a werewolf. It‘s something he realized on their third date, after the marks he tried to leave on Peter’s throat just didn’t seem to stay . Peter didn’t offer to explain, and Chris didn’t ask.

Peter teaches Chris things. He teaches him about blow jobs and deep throating. It turns out Chris is a natural, using his tongue in sinful, enticing ways that have never even occurred to Peter, twisting and flicking the tip cleverly. Peter takes careful note of what Chris does to him, and then does it back, grinning as Chris bucks up into Peter’s mouth with a bitten off curse.

He teaches Chris to ride him, how to steady his thighs and slide up and down, nice and slow and smooth.

He teaches Chris to tease him the way he likes, bringing him to the brink and keeping him there until he’s begging to come. Chris learns that lesson a little _too_ well in Peter’s opinion, and he suspects he’s created a monster.

They keep up their semi-regular schedule for three months, and Chris never mentions Peter to anyone, never even hints. His father continues setting him up on dates with a variety of hard faced women with dominant streaks, and Chris continues to politely sit through dinner with them, only to never call them again. Victoria is the last straw. She’s a stone cold bitch – rude to him, rude to the servers, and unpleasant in a way that makes Chris’ skin crawl. He tips red wine over her in a desperate attempt to end the evening, and afterwards he messages Peter to see if he’s free.

Peter meets him of course, and Chris realizes that as much as he enjoys the sex, he’s starting to enjoy spending time out of bed with Peter just as much. Peter snickers all the way through his retelling of the disastrous date, and shares how when he came out his mother tried to set him up with every teenage girl she could lay her hands on, right until he put a stop to it by dating one girl’s brother. Chris laughs uproariously at the story - it’s so typically Peter.

Afterwards, they go back to the motel and fuck like bunnies. But afterwards, they also hold each other close, content to stay wrapped up together as their breathing evens out. That night, for the first time, Chris doesn’t steal away into the night.

When he wakes the next morning, Peter is nuzzling at his throat. Chris knows it for what it is immediately, but he pretends to sleep as Peter continues to scent him, still half asleep. He can feel the extra warmth radiating off Peter’s body, and the way his muscles are just a little more solid than they should be. Just little things, signs of what Peter is.

He goes to move, but suddenly Peter’s grip is painfully tight, and he’s growling deep in his throat. Chris relaxes into the grip for a moment, before trying to move once more, only to have Peter’s arm clamp down around his torso like an iron band, while Peter growls out “ _Mine. Mate_.”

Chris freezes at the words.

Of course, he’s heard the lore. Of how a werewolf can feel an instinctive attraction to someone, and know, just like that, that this is their life partner. Gerard sees it as further proof of their animal nature, saying “Filthy beasts. They catch one whiff of something they like and decide to latch on. Just like a dog looking for a bitch to rut with.”

Chris has never seen it like that. He’s always thought it sounded incredible, to know who you were meant to be with. He lies there for a minute, trying to process that Peter’s wolf thinks Chris is his mate.  Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Chris dares to move again, this time saying “Peter? Let go, I gotta get up.”

Peter stirs a little, and Chris tries again. “Baby, wake up. I need to get moving, and you need to let go of me.”

Peter jerks awake suddenly, and the grip around Chris releases. Chris leans over and kisses Peter, and then slides out of bed. He doesn’t mention what Peter said, doesn’t give any indication that anything unusual has happened, instead just saying “OK with you if I shower first?”

Peter nods and lets him go. He looks like he wants to ask Chris something, but by the time Chris emerges from the shower, the moment’s passed. He kisses Chris goodbye casually as they part, and never mentions werewolves, or mates or _mine_.

Chris lets it go. Either Peter will trust him eventually, or he won’t, and Chris will end up just another notch on his headboard. Peter has been quite open from the start that Chris is one in a long line of lovers, and Chris doesn’t even care. If he’d had the opportunity, he probably would have done the same. Hell, he’s grateful that he even has this.

But he does go home and research the hell out of werewolf mates. Gerard nods approvingly when he sees him studying the old texts, satisfied that his son is finally taking his role as a hunter seriously.

 

* * *

 

 

Peter starts courting Chris.

He doesn’t call it that of course, but suddenly the texts, instead of saying “ **Free tonight?** ” say “ **Free for dinner?** ”

Peter stubbornly insists on paying, every time, and armed with what he’s learned, Chris graciously accepts.  

Peter brings gifts. He buys Chris a pendant on a braided leather cord that nestles at the base of his throat, and hands it to him casually, saying “Such a handsome man, Christopher. You deserve a little decoration.” Chris barely hesitates for a second before he takes it and puts it around his neck, and he doesn’t imagine the relief on Peter’s face at his acceptance of the token. Afterwards, when they go to bed, Chris leaves the pendant on. He wakes during the night to the feeling of Peter scenting him and muttering “ _Mine_ ,” in his sleep. Chris doesn’t even think he knows he’s doing it.

The next time it’s a leather jacket, and Chris shrugs it on immediately. Peter absolutely beams, and when they go to bed he asks Chris to fuck him, for the first time since they got together. He talks him through it, guiding him and encouraging him, and when Chris finally sinks into him, he urges him on with cries of _harder,_ and _more_. Chris has never been inside another man, but the rush of power and satisfaction he feels when he reduces Peter to a begging mess is overwhelming, and he can’t wait to do it again.

He’s being courted by a werewolf, and it’s the most dangerous thing he’s ever done. But he can’t bring himself to care, and he certainly doesn’t want to stop. He doesn’t think he imagines the steady pull he feels towards Peter, the thrum of _wantwantwant_ deep in his very being.  He knows his father will probably kill him for this when he finds out, but Chris is helpless against the tide of desire that pulls him closer to his mate.

He tries to figure out a way to tell Peter who he is, and he just can’t find the words. He doesn’t want this to end, and he doesn’t want Peter to leave him, but he knows that once he finds out that Chris is from a family of hunters, Peter will probably look at him with disgust and walk away forever.

So he keeps quiet, because he’s selfish, and he wants to keep this, for at least a little longer.

 

* * *

 

It’s a month before it comes up.

In the meantime, Peter has continued to buy Chris tokens of his affection, and Chris knows enough to realise that it means he’s getting serious.  He knows it’s only a matter of time before Peter will have to tell him about being a werewolf, and he decides that when he does, Chris will reveal his secret as well, and hope like hell Peter can forgive him for who he is.

When it happens, they’re at their motel. It’s not like Chris can bring Peter home, and he doesn’t even know where the other man lives. They’ve just walked in the door, and Peter’s kissing him, slow and sweet and affectionate. He pulls back with a sigh and says, “You do realize I’m falling for you, Christopher.”

His expression is full of warmth, but Chris suspects if Peter knew who he really was, that look would disappear in a heartbeat.  

He suddenly realises Peter’s still speaking. “….feel it’s only fair to tell you what I am.”

He’s suddenly alert again. ”Sorry, what?”

Peter rolls his eyes fondly. “I _said,_ it’s time we got to know each other properly. I’d like us to be something more. So, I wanted to tell you what I am.”

Chris holds his breath for a second. This is it. “So, what are you, then?”

Peter smiles, and says “I’m an accountant.”

It takes Chris a minute to register what he’s heard. “An accountant,” he repeats. That’s not what he was expecting to hear at all.

“Yes. An accountant,” Peter says, giving Chris a confused look. “I know. I don’t fit the stereotype at all. But I like making the numbers do as I say. You look shocked, sweetheart. What were you expecting me to say?”

“That you’re a werewolf,” Chris blurts out, before he can stop himself.

Peter’s expression becomes closed off instantly, and he says carefully “Why on earth would you say such a thing?”

Peter’s looking at him, waiting. He can’t make himself say the words in the end, so instead he pulls a business card from his wallet and hands it over wordlessly.

**Christopher Argent - Consultant**

**Argent Arms**

Peter pulls back from his grasp, looking stunned. “You’re an _Argent?_ ”

Chris nods.

Peter looks at the card, looks at Chris, looks at the card, and says “Well, fuck.”

Chris couldn’t have said it better himself.

They stare at each other for a moment, before Chris says “That gonna be a problem?”

Peter exhales slowly and says “That depends. Do you care that I’m a Hale?”

And that, thinks Chris, explains why his family haven’t hunted Peter down.

He’d wondered why there was a werewolf in the area that his father wasn’t tracking. But there’s a shaky peace treaty between the Argents and the Hales, one that mainly holds together by virtue of Talia Hale being the mayor – the family has too high a profile for Gerard to touch them, much as he might want to.

“Not a problem for me if it’s not a problem for you,” Chris says, putting the ball squarely back in Peter’s court.

Peter looks at him consideringly before he asks him, “How long have you known?”

“That you’re a Were? Since our third night together. Couldn’t leave a damned bruise on you, no matter how I tried. You’re hot, hotter than normal. And you’re too strong to be human. Nobody should be able to hold me up against a wall and fuck me like that without at least breaking a sweat,” he adds.

“So why keep seeing me, if you knew?” Peter challenges, tone wary. Chris can’t say he blames him.

He says,“Because I’m not my father.” He hesitates, and steps forwards, cupping Peter’s face in his hands softly as he admits, “And maybe I fell a little in love with you.”

Even as he says it, he knows it to be true. He’s in love with a damned werewolf.

Peter’s face softens when he hears the words, and his posture becomes a little less guarded. A tiny smile twitches at the corners of his mouth as he shakes his head. “I should be a lot angrier at you for keeping who you were a secret.”

Chris raises a brow. “You really think you’re in any position to be pointing fingers about keeping secrets right now, baby?”

When he hears Chris use the pet name, Peter melts. Argent or not, he’s totally gone on this man.  He lets out a deep sigh. “God. An Argent and a Hale. Could we be more unsuited?”

Chris shrugs. “We can’t be that badly matched. After all, you keep telling me I’m your mate.”

Peter looks startled and starts to speak, but Chris anticipates his question and says “You talk in your sleep, baby. In the mornings, before you’re properly awake. You call me your mate. You scent me, too.”

The looks of surprise on Peter’s face would be comical under other circumstances. “I wondered about that,” he admits sheepishly. “I half remembered doing it, but you never said anything, so I hoped you were asleep, and didn’t notice.” He looks up at Chris and bites his lip, suddenly looking unsure of himself. “How much do you know about werewolf mating instinct?” he asks.

“The stories say that the wolf chooses its mate, and the wolf is rarely wrong,” Chris says. There’s a lot more to it, but that’s it in a nutshell.

“And do you believe it’s true, that my wolf knows best?” Peter asks. His expression is hopeful.

Chris grins. “I know it’s true. And I feel it, feel the pull to be with you. I’m yours, Peter, if you’ll have me.”  He drags Peter into his arms, and tilts his head back so that Peter can nuzzle into his throat.

“Oh, I’ll have you,” Peter smirks. Then he buries his face deep in the curve of Chris’ throat and makes a satisfied sound as he scents him. He stays there for a minute, breathing deeply, and Chris chuckles at the way he burrows close. Finally, Peter pulls his face away, saying “Now, what the hell do we do about this?”

Chris kisses him softly, and says “Nothing, for now. We carry on as we are. I can’t ask you to leave your pack, you’d never survive alone. And I won’t expose you to my father– the truce between our families won’t stop him if he finds out about us.”

Peter groans. “I hate that you’re right. Christopher. But I agree. We’ll bide our time. We’ll figure something out. It’ll be fine.”

Neither of them has any idea what they’re going to do, but they cling the hope that somehow, it will all work out.

 

* * *

 

 

Peter calls Chris one afternoon a month later and says, “There are wolves in the area.”

“I heard,” Chris answers. “I’m on my way to deal with them now.”

“Christopher, you stay away, you hear me? There’s something off about the Alpha. Let me take care of this.” Peter says sternly.

“This is what I’m trained to do, Peter. I can handle it,” Chris replies, and ends the call.

Half an hour later, he’s lying bleeding out in the dirt.

And then Peter arrives, and suddenly the strange wolves are dead, Peter’s an Alpha, and Chris spends three days halfway between delirium and death while his body threatens to reject the bite.

All he remembers is Peter clinging to his hand, saying “Don’t you dare die, you hear me? If you make it through this, we’ll leave. We’ll go somewhere safe. Live like normal people. Come on, sweetheart. You’re stronger than this.”

And then he remembers a burning in his veins, and a warm body wrapped around him, holding him and whispering that it’s going to be OK, that the bite’s taken, and then waking up with fangs and claws and a roar.

Peter’s there, grinning fiercely because Chris made it through the change OK, and Chris is laughing and crying at the same time, overwhelmed by his new senses and the fact that he’s still alive. Soon enough though, his expression sobers up.

“We need to leave, Peter. Gerard will hunt me down.” Chris knows that this is something his father won’t forgive.

Peter looks horrified. “He’d kill his own son?”

Chris says “It’s happened before. If you get bitten, you kill yourself before the bite takes. It’s better to die than become a wolf, according to the family code. He’d take me down without a second thought.”

“So we leave. I mean, my pack barely tolerated me before. They certainly won’t put up with my being an Alpha. And technically, turning an Argent could be seen as an act of aggression,” Peter points out.

He calls his sister, Talia, and explains what’s happened. That he’s an Alpha. That he’s found his mate. That it’s Chris Argent, and that Peter gave him the bite. Once she stops screaming at him down the phone and calms down a little, Peter assures her that he won’t stay and embarrass the family further, he’s just letting her know that they’re leaving. He leaves it up to her whether she lets Gerard know what happened to Chris.

Then they take what they can from Peter’s apartment, and get the hell out of Dodge.

As they’re packing, Peter suddenly says “I have money, by the way. A trust fund from my grandparents. So we can afford to live, at least.”

Chris turns to him, smirking, and says “I don’t think that’ll be an issue, sweet thing.”

Peter looks at him quizzically, and Chris opens up his laptop and taps into his internet banking. Peter watches, shocked, as Chris strips half a million dollars out of the Argent Arms account and transfers it across into another one, innocuously named Great Escape Travel.

“Christopher, whose account is that?” he asks.

Chris smiles widely and says “It’s mine. I set it up a couple of years ago, when I realized I didn’t want to stay a hunter, and that meant I’d have to leave at some point. I do the books for the business, and I’ve been skimming cash off the top. If there’s one thing my father taught me, it’s the value of planning.”

Peter’s face breaks into a delighted smile. He didn’t think Chris was capable of such a thing. Obviously, neither did Gerard.

“Sweetheart, _exactly_ how much have you stolen from your father?” Peter asks, curious.

Chris shrugs. “Including this? About a million. And I earned it, living with him for all those years. I think of it as compensation.”

 

* * *

 

 

Peter teaches him about his wolf, and he’s like a proud father the day Chris manages to get through the full moon and control his shift. He praises his and coos over him, telling him he’s a natural. Chris rolls his eyes, but he can’t keep the smile off his face.

They drift. They move from town to town, sometimes staying a month, sometimes six. They work, and they make love, and they wrap themselves around each other, reveling in the feeling of _pack_ and _mate_. It’s a nice life, an easy life, different from anything Chris has ever experienced before, and he loves it. He feels free.

Chris only hears from his family once. A message from Kate.

**I won’t hunt you. But if I ever see you, I’ll kill you.**

He shows it to Peter, saying “Honestly? It’s better than I expected.”

They’ve been on the road for four years when they get to Beacon Hills, and there’s something about the town that tugs at them.

Peter goes to see Satomi Ito, the territory’s Alpha, shortly after they arrive, a courtesy visit to let her know his pack is in the area.

She peers at him, and then smiles widely as she says “Peter Hale. I remember you as a small child. You were desperately stubborn, as I recall, and slightly vain. Have you changed?”

Peter laughs and tells her “Not much, no. I’m a little taller.”

“And an alpha, now. With a pack of one?” she asks.

“My mate, Christopher,” he confirms.

Satomi looks at him over steepled fingers, regarding him seriously. Finally, she says “Somehow, I don’t think you want to take over the territory, do you?”

“Not at all,” Peter assures her.

She nods as if that’s the answer she expected, and says “In that case, you’re welcome to stay here. If you wish, you’re welcome to settle here permanently.”

It’s a generous offer, and he considers it. He thinks they could be happy here. It feels like it could be home.

“Shall we stay here, darling?” Peter asks Chris later.

Chris hums, considering it. “Maybe. We could get our own place. Get jobs. Live like normal people.”

Peter thinks it sounds heavenly, so they stay.

Chris works at the shooting range, and Peter gets a job with a local accountancy firm.

They gain a third partner, for a while. Danny is young and gorgeous and deliciously wicked in bed, and they enjoy their time with him immensely, but all three of them know it’s temporary. When he leaves them to travel, they’re not really surprised. They agree that adding a third is something they’d like to do again, but that next time, they’ll wait for someone special. They’ll let the wolf choose.

They end up starting a clothing store, simply because they’re both sick of not being able to buy anything decent in this town. The only thing they butt heads on is whether their new premises should have a kitchen or not. Peter insists it should. Chris is just as adamant they need a bathroom more.

He finally wins that argument by telling Peter “If there’s a bathroom, I can drag you in there, lock the door, and do whatever I like, baby.”

Peter’s eyes light up at that, and he says “You know, I think you’re right. And I’m sure one of the other stores will have a kitchen we can share. Maybe that gaming place.”

 


End file.
